


Room 419

by harper_m



Category: Cruel Intentions
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-01
Updated: 2006-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-07 08:30:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/428978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harper_m/pseuds/harper_m
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kathryn owes penance, and Annette is more than happy to help her pay it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Room 419

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: contains drug use and what could easily be seen as dubcon

What a sweet girl, they said.

She heard it, knew what people thought. She let them, because it made her happy.

She’d learned a lot from Sebastian. There was, of course, the fine art of how, exactly, to manipulate people, to fine tune their emotions, feelings, and motivations until they played just the right chord. He’d certainly played her, up until he’d gotten trapped in his own web and been brought crashing down to the ultimate low. Which was, she thought, with the exception of his unfortunate demise, very satisfying. She’d bested the best, won love from the unfeeling.

She learned that her words of conviction were empty ones. Annette Hargrove was no longer the simpering, retiring virgin, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t going to keep up appearances.

From his diary, she’d learned hatred. Actually, she hadn’t needed his diary to learn hatred. That she had in spades, directed primarily at the same woman that her lover had, in turns, despised and adored.

Kathryn.

Maybe her most valuable lesson, though, hadn’t come from Sebastian at all. He’d been the tool, certainly, had provided her with the appropriate weapon. But, that lesson… well, that lesson she’d learned all on her own.

Power.

The rush of feeling that had flowed through her at the other girl’s downfall had been downright intoxicating, and Annette had found herself hooked. She’d not only bested the best, but she’d bested the best’s most capable enemy. In that moment, she reigned supreme. She could have cared less about exposing Kathryn’s machinations. It was fun, of course, to see all of those once adoring faces turn bitter and hateful, to see the Kathryn try to keep from breaking down in tears in the face of her utter abandonment. But, had there been another way to achieve her ultimate goal, she would have kept the book to herself, would have used it for leverage in the future.

There hadn’t been any other way, really, to see what she wanted to see on Kathryn’s face, and so she’d used her most powerful tool without qualms. And, she’d gotten her wish…

Defeat.

Kathryn hadn’t stood a chance. Not against the sugar sweet allure of the grieving girlfriend, the savior of the unsaveable, the miracle-worker who had turned Sebastian Valmont into something resembling a real person. Kathryn had made far too many enemies for that, while Annette had cultured the support and sympathy of the student population at large. The little sycophants had been only too willing to throw their support at her feet, and Annette hadn’t felt a single flitting twinge of remorse for picking it up and tossing it around her shoulders like a mantle. A mantle far more protective than even the Golden Fleece, and she was quite certain that there was no end in sight. She’d always be on top.

After all, like they said… wasn’t she such a sweet girl? Going to visit that horrible Kathryn, even when no one else would. Not even the girl’s mother could be bothered to drop by, not that the nurses felt any pity for her. She deserved it, surely. Such a horrible person, they whispered behind they hands. Well, for the most part at least, and if Kathryn heard them a few times, then it was almost like an ad hoc part of her therapy. A little self-awareness never hurt anyone.

They’d read all about her, after all, in that poor, misguided, dead boy’s journal. Honestly, playing with people’s lives as she had… it was only fair that she didn’t even have control over her own any more, much less anyone else’s.

But Annette, now she was a saint. Every single Tuesday afternoon she was there like clockwork, with a bouquet of flowers for the nurses’ desk or a box of expensive chocolates for the break room, and when she asked for a little privacy in which to counsel her former nemesis on the glory to be had in clean living and a devotion to one’s fellow man, then who were they to quibble? It might not really be hospital policy, but she didn’t seem worried and any time spent free of the hassle of the she-devil in room 419 was a gift that quite simply couldn’t be ignored. They kept an eye out, of course, for any signs of distress because they certainly didn’t want their benefactor to come to harm, but nothing seemed at all out of the ordinary.

That first day, the first sight of Kathryn, had rushed through Annette in a surge of adrenaline and joy that was borderline orgasmic. She looked horrible, her normally shiny and well-coifed hair lank and sweaty, plastered to her head with a combination of sweat and oil. Her skin was waxy and pale, dark circles practically forming craters under her listless and dull eyes. Withdrawals were definitely taking their toll on her, and if her appearance wasn’t a primary indicator of them, then the fine tremors that continuously racked her body certainly were.

The nurse had escorted Annette to the room and left, as per her wishes, and she had stood inside the door for a long moment, triumphant and victorious. There was a musk to the air, a combination of depression, sweat, hopelessness and hatred, and as she pulled the potent mixture into her lungs, Annette knew that she’d made the right decision. It was the perfect place to hone her skills.

Kathryn had stared at her with a hatred that would have been debilitating had her eyes not been bloodshot and weak, but Annette merely chuckled. Kathryn was like a declawed, defanged lion. All bark but no bite, little more than a kitten really.

“You stink,” she’d said, leaning back against the door. “Go take a shower, and if you do, maybe I’ll tell you what’s been going on since you left.”

There had been a moment of indecision. Unused to taking commands from anyone and unwilling to do so when they came from her archenemy, Kathryn had teetered on the brink of outright refusal. But, it’d been so long, weeks really, since she’d had contact with anyone other than those fucking soulless white coats, and so with another glare, she made her way into the bathroom. She’d broken down without a fight, giving in with a defiant submissiveness that nonetheless reeked of futility, and it took all Annette had in her not to purr in triumph.

When she emerged nearly a quarter of an hour later, wet hair slicked back and new scrubs replacing the old, it was to find Annette gone. Enraged, on the verge of doing something that would only end with her in restraints, Kathryn forced herself to calm down. So the little bitch had gotten a bit of revenge, had made her look like a fool. She hoped the trip up had been worth it.

But, much to her surprise, a week later Annette was back. Back and wearing her Manchester Prep uniform, though Kathryn wasn’t at all certain that she remembered the skirt being that short. Well, Annette’s skirt, at least. Little Miss Priss always had her hem at the regulation two inches above her knees, shirt buttoned sharply up to the top and blazer drawn tightly around her shoulders.

“What do you want?”

Annette barely repressed a gloat at the look of guarded hesitance in the Kathryn's. Kathryn didn’t like being played for a fool. That much was obvious. What was also obvious was just how pliable she was. Wholesale disconnection from her previous life had left a girl used to power and diversion quite vulnerable. It reminded Annette of those studies she’d read about, the ones where researchers had taken people and suspended them in tanks of water, eyes blindfolded, hearing blocked and mouth taped shut. Unable to connect to the outside world, unable to even hear themselves speak much less know how long they’d been there, alone and without the simple knowledge of what direction they were facing, some had gone quite mad. Well, mad until they’d gotten their senses back, and Annette could easily picture Kathryn as one of those research subjects, desperate for any clue or contact, no matter how small. So desperate that she was forced to curb her natural desire to attack and overpower. So alone that she was forced to look to Annette for her sanity.

“At least you’re looking better,” she said flippantly, then settled down easily into a chair, crossing her legs. It caused her already high skirt to inch up even further, and Annette was anything but unaware of the way Kathryn’s eyes followed the movement, a desperate hunger that she wasn’t able to hide burning through the veneer of aloof calm she tried to summon. “How long has it been?”

The question was said with such nonchalance that Kathryn was momentarily puzzled. How long had it been since what? Surely not how long had it been since they’d seen each other last because unless Annette was suffering from some fairly intensive memory loss, then she should certainly be aware of her little visit a week prior. Of course, the elimination of that as an option left Kathryn with only a few choices, none of which she really wanted to dwell on. How long had it been since Sebastian died? How long had it been since Annette ruined her life? How long had she been in rehab?

“How long has it been since what?” she asked finally, curiosity overcoming the instinctive desire to remain quiet, to ignore Annette in the hopes that she would go away.

Annette took a moment to inspect her nails with a bored impatience that clearly indicated just how idiotic she felt the question to be. “Since you got fucked?”

After a moment of stunned silence, Kathryn managed an acerbic, “Why? Are you offering?”

“Oh please,” Annette responded, seemingly much more interested in the state of her cuticles than in the conversation. “You’re so wet for me right now I can almost smell you. And by the way, didn’t I tell you to take a shower?”

With a barely repressed growl, Kathryn pushed herself up out of her chair, covering the space between herself and Annette in a few rapid steps. Her arm was raised, fingers splayed apart slightly as she contemplated just how happy it would make her to see the bloody red trails her nails etched across Annette’s face, when Annette looked up, bored impatience in her eyes.

“Go ahead and do it. See how it feels to be strapped down to your bed for a week,” she said lazily, not moving an inch. She could literally see Kathryn seething, see the battle between impulse and barely anchored control flitting behind her eyes. For a long moment, she thought Kathryn might just do it, might disregard the consequences and do her very best job of clawing Annette’s eyes out, but apparently the prospect of her punishment was far worse than the temporary satisfaction she’d gain. With the rigidity of fury still stiffening her limbs, she took a slow step backward.

“Fuck you,” Kathryn enunciated softly, brows lowering in anger as she surveyed the girl sitting before her, legs spread in nonchalant disregard.

With a devious smile, Annette reached down, fingers slowly inching the fabric of her loose skirt up her thighs, baring even more smooth, creamy flesh. She didn’t stop until the near violent white of her cotton panties was visible between the spread of silky thighs. Then, cutting predatory blue eyes up at a helpless, fascinated Kathryn, she murmured, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you. You always did want me.”

Unable to look away, Kathryn watched as Annette slid a slim hand between her thighs. Her fingers traced a short path up and down in a near maddening rhythm, the light scrape of fingernails against fabric almost thunderously loud in the suddenly silent room.

“You wish,” Kathryn managed to rasp, her mouth dry. And with the words, Annette sat up primly, her hem suddenly pulled down to a respectable length as she pushed herself up out of the chair, a cheerful smile brightening her features.

With a coy little wave, she turned and headed for the door, and Kathryn tried to take in the whiplash change. The surreal nature of the visit had left her in a fog, however, and she could only stare in confusion as Annette paused just inside the door, turning to deliver one last sickeningly sweet smile. “Look at the time,” Annette chirped, not even bothering to glance down at her watch. “Gotta go.”

She wanted to ask the Annette to stay. To beg her to stay, even, not because she really wanted her there but because she was slowly going crazy. All alone, no one but disapproving nurses and know-it-all Oedipally transfixed pretentious shrinks to keep her company, with the exception of the orderlies with greasy hair and thin cotton scrubs that barely hid hard cocks they wanted sucked in return for a measly fucking Snickers bar that is, but she hadn’t stooped that low yet. Almost, maybe, but not quite, and she nearly laughed at the fate that had torn her from her perch only to have her want the company of the girl who’d orchestrated her fall.

Annette was back a week later, just like clockwork, plaid skirt brushing creamy legs mid-thigh and a smirk on her face. Kathryn was freshly scrubbed and trying her best to remain calm, tired of Annette's holier-than-thou attitude and just low enough to want to take away all barriers to interaction. So, she tried not to blush when Annette looked at her with knowing eyes, one arrogant brow arched as she stared at still wet hair and visually worked her way down.

“You’re learning,” Annette said, settling into the chair she always occupied, voice sweet and grin wide and innocent. “How’s the detox going?”

Kathryn wanted to choke her, wanted to wrap her hands around that petite, perfect little neck and squeeze until blue eyes hemorrhaged red, but she didn’t. Instead she smiled, or grimaced, or came close to doing a combination of the two. “It tends to happen with or without my consent,” she said blithely, searching desperately for some of the careless nonchalance she used to possess in spades.

Running a calculating eye down Kathryn's form, Annette said assessingly, “You still look like shit. But, then again, I’ll bet it’s been rough. All those years snorting all the coke you wanted, and now look at you…”

Barely suppressing a snarl, curling up on her bed as if it were a natural, unconscious pose and not really the sudden, hard ache of a belly craving what it couldn’t have so badly it cramped, Kathryn managed a casual, “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Grin stretching even wider, Annette reached behind her, pulling on a chain that had, up until then, not been visible, and a painfully familiar crucifix emerged from the depths of her shirt.

“So,” she said calmly, unscrewing the cap, “I guess you wouldn’t be at all tempted, then, if I were to ask you if you wanted to share.”

Pupils dilating instantly, body so desperate she was nearly aroused by it, Kathryn struggled to hold herself back, to relax her muscles. Voice tense and reed thin, she whispered a strained, “No.”

Expression knowing, calculating, Annette slid one hand down to inch up her skirt. Spread legs revealed a nearly translucent white cotton thong and baby fine blonde curls, and she smirked as Kathryn nearly licked her lips at the sight.

“You mean,” she drawled, voice low and seductive, using the cross to draw a thin line of white powder on the top of her thigh, “that you’d tell me no?”

Kathryn tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat and she could only nod her head no, the move weak and unconvincing.

Grinning wolfishly, Annette outlined another thin line on the other side, then screwed the crucifix back together, dropping it down the front of her shirt once more. Hands now free, she slid her palms down her sides, over her belly, so that an index finger was hovering over each line. “Guess you won’t be needing this, then,” she said, voice all little girl innocence as her finger ever so slowly started to sweep the coke from her thigh, scattering white powder down over the exposed wooden seat of her chair.

“Wait,” Kathryn cried hoarsely, eyes watching with horror as the lines shortened infinitesimally. “Don’t do that.”

Pausing, teeth bared in a poor pantomime of a sweet smile, Annette looked up, head cocking to the side. “And why not?”

“Please,” Kathryn gulped, world blurring black around the edges, her own breath an absurdly loud rasp in her ears.

“Please what?” Annette demanded, a sharper edge to her tone.

Feeling her heart flutter, the rapid beating enough to make her faint, Kathryn eased off the bed, standing warily at its side. Feeling her pride crack, the small fissure soon giving way to full blown submission, she whimpered, taking another almost pained step forward. “Please let me have it,” she nearly begged, throat closing painfully over the unfamiliar words.

Leaning back in her chair, face a blank, bored slate, Annette purred a pleased, “Why should I?”

Growling in frustration, Kathryn took another tentative step forward, then stopped abruptly when the move earned her a displeased scowl. “If you want me to beg then fine, I’ll beg,” Kathryn exploded, frustration heavy in her tone.

Chin tilting back, delighted smile once again returning to her features, Annette murmured, “Not only do I want you to beg, I want you to crawl. On your knees… surely the whore of Manchester Prep knows that position.”

Snarling, Kathryn sank to her knees, nostrils twitching in anticipation of the powdered bliss snaking over Annette's creamy skin. Inching forward on her knees, eyes focused on her goal and not the egotistical excitement on Annette’s face, she justified her actions, somehow, by almost removing herself from the scene. She saw it as if she were watching it, not as the girl on display down on her knees on the slightly dirty hospital floor, nipples tight and aching and body so tense with anticipation that she was practically vibrating.

Shaking her head as if scolding a troublesome child, Annette chided, “On all fours, Kathryn. You should know better.”

She almost stopped. Almost told herself it wasn’t worth it, almost spit in Annette’s perfect little angel face and damn the restraints and leering orderlies, but she was so close she could nearly taste it, and so with a glare, she dropped to her hands, shuffling forward like an overgrown infant.

“Good girl,” Annette praised, chuckling when Kathryn shot her a razor-sharp look, all hatred, rage and ice. “Now,” she said cheerfully, tone disconcertingly perky, “what’s the magic word.”

“Fuck you,” Kathryn managed from between gritted teeth, nearly drooling as she made her way to within inches of her destination.

Tsking in the back of her throat, fingers suddenly at her thighs and flicking away another centimeter of chemically enhanced heaven, Annette said sadly, “Sorry, wrong answer. Try again.”

Not even bothering to hide her whimper as the lines grew shorter, Kathryn looked up, eyes black with a combination of loathing and abject arousal. “Please,” she whispered, the word feeling like it was dragged over broken glass and then pulled painfully from her.

“I expected you to be much better at this,” Annette said, tone almost wistful. “Put some real feeling into it, Kathryn, or else stop wasting my time.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Kathryn snapped, frustrated.

Shaking her head sorrowfully, Annette murmured, “You’ve got to give me something, Kathryn. I’m not just going to share with you out of the goodness of my heart.”

“I’ll give you anything you want,” Kathryn vowed, quite convinced, at that moment, that she meant every reverent word.

At that, Annette merely laughed. “I want you to tell me something I don’t know already. A secret. Something you’ve never told anyone else before.”

The demand drew Kathryn up short. She blinked rapidly, eyes glassing over as her mind went suddenly blank. The list of potential topics seemed endless yet non-existent, and she scrambled to grab hold of some small tidbit that would suffice to please the demon smirking at her, impatience highlighted in the tense set of her shoulders.

“I wanted to be a ballerina when I was a little girl,” she muttered, inching ever closer to Annette.

Finger slowly brushing away yet another portion of the line, Annette shook her head in mock sadness. “Every little girl wants to be a ballerina, Kathryn. Do better or I’m leaving.”

Feeling her heart speed up with dread at the words, knowing that Annette would leave and take the remaining tidbit of coke with her if she didn’t answer appropriately, Kathryn searched her mind again.

Frantic, she nearly yelled, “I started masturbating when I was 10. I watched my father while he showered. He didn’t seem to mind, really. After he finished and I went back to my room, I thought about him naked and touching me, and I would touch myself for hours until my skin was raw.”

A slim blonde brow arched and Annette pursed her lips. “Well, well…” she murmured, an evil smile sneaking across her lips. “What a dirty girl.”

Kathryn dropped her head, more shamed in that moment than she had ever been in her life. But Annette was saying her name, voice a crystal siren’s call.

“Do you want your treat, Kathryn?” Annette purred, eyes heavily lidded as she watched the dark red blush creep up Kathryn's cheeks.

Holding back a sniffle, looking up with shy eyes, Kathryn nodded.

“Come get it, baby,” Annette cooed, blood singing with the power she could feel surging through her veins. She knew it had to be far better than the coke sitting lightly on her thigh. There was no better drug, and she was turning into a perfect addict.

Kathryn closed the space between them so quickly that later she couldn’t remember if she’d crawled or not. It didn’t matter, though, when she felt the sting of the white powder hitting her nasal passages. Her eyes dilated instantly, endorphins rushing from the anticipated high to come. It was only a small bit of coke, far less than she’d snorted in a ten minute span in her previous life, but to Kathryn at that moment, it was heaven.

There was a soft hand stroking her hair, short nails lightly scoring the skin of her scalp, and she laid the side of her face against Annette’s thigh, sighing happily. The humiliation, her surroundings, her shame… all were gone. She didn’t protest as Annette’s grip tightened, as the other girl drew her face closer to blinding white cotton panties. She merely closed her eyes and rubbed her nose along the slightly scratchy fabric, breathing in the fresh, clean scent of lost innocence.

Voice a low rumble, Annette said, “Take them off.”

Kathryn was only too happy to oblige, the adrenaline driven high boosted by the tinge of coke flying through her veins, leaving her hungry for everything. Soon that plaid skirt was pushed up around Annette’s waist, and Kathryn was looking at beautiful golden curls. It had been so long since she’d had real human contact, much less anything resembling sex, and the first taste of Annette was enough to make her moan. She was starved for everything – drugs, sex, compassion, human touch, love. What was happening didn’t have anything to do with the finer emotions on that list, but she didn’t care.

Annette watched from under hooded lids as the top of Kathryn’s head moved up and down, the hot flat of her tongue sending shivers of pleasure through her. She didn’t know what felt better, the tongue on her clit or the sight of her former nemesis down on her knees.

She thought it might be the latter.

When she came, she did so violently. Nails gripping Kathryn’s scalp tightly, she worked to hold in her yelp of pleasure, to maintain some semblance of composure. It was hard, unbelievably so, and she pushed Kathryn to the ground, oversensitized. Both of them stared at the other, panting, until Annette primly picked her panties up from the ground, once again sliding them around her hips.

“Time to go,” she said cheerily, her voice far more steady than she felt. A tinge of hatred glinted in Kathryn’s eyes for a split second. The emotion drew a smirk from Annette. “Now, tell me you’ll miss me.”

“Hardly,” Kathryn spat, fingers twitching as she suppressed the urge to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand. She wouldn’t give Annette the pleasure of seeing her do it.

Tilting her head to the side as if in contemplation, Annette murmured, “Such hostility. If you’re not nicer to me, I might decide not to come back.”

“So you want to hear I’ll miss you?” Kathryn said glibly, body starting to vibrate as the coke reached full effect. “I’m sure I will.”

“That will do for now,” Annette said breezily, walking to the door. Once there she stopped, turning back briefly, eyes narrowed malevolently. “Take care.”

She didn’t come back for three weeks.

By the time the door to room 419 opened to readmit her, Kathryn told herself that she wasn’t going to play the fool this time. She wasn’t going to beg, wasn’t going to humble herself, and certainly wasn’t going to find herself on her knees in front of Annette again. But she’d gone so long without human contact. Her parents didn’t call or visit. Neither did her so-called friends. She had no one but the nurses, doctors and orderlies to keep her company, and most of them treated her with an almost bored hostility. Nurses had little kindness left for patients after years on the job. Seeing one drug addict after another did much to erase any sympathy they might have felt when new. Now it was nothing but careless disregard for the humanity of their patients, each new one a pathetic shell waiting for a serial number and a readmission soon after they left. They were well aware, by this stage in their career, that what they were doing didn’t really matter. Sobriety was usually coveted by everyone but the addict, who more times than not returned to his or her old ways almost immediately. Doctors never really had time for patients, other than the requisite hour of counseling twice a week. But even then they didn’t really listen, just told Kathryn what was wrong with her and told her how they were going to fix it. Orderlies were little better, with their rough hands and the sloppy care of the overworked and underpaid. They were full of innuendo, their advances often almost aggressive. But Kathryn knew better than to say yes. She had no desire to become a sex slave for the barely washed masses. Come one, come all, so to speak.

Annette, though, was different. She was Kathryn’s old life brought into vivid color. In her blue and green plaid, with the fresh innocence only money could buy, she was disturbingly captivating.

Kathryn wanted to claw her eyes out for even thinking it.

“Miss me?” Annette’s voice was chipper, grating on Kathryn’s nerves, but she nodded begrudgingly, not willing to give up her visitor just yet. For the moment she’d play along with Annette's games.

Kathryn stared at her sullenly, dark circles under her eyes. The days following the slice of heaven she’d been given before had been rough. She missed the sweet sting of coke and, though she would never admit it, the softness of Annette's skin.

Annette moved easily into the room, closing the door firmly behind her. Not paying Kathryn any attention, she pulled her chair into the middle of the room, settling into it daintily. Her short plaid skirt inched up her thighs, exposing silky cream, and she eased the pleats into a slightly more demure position. There was a hint of the sarcastic in her eyes, as if even she found her farce a bit too much.

“Did you miss me?” she asked again, a harsh precision in her tone. Each syllable conveyed her displeasure, her seeming revulsion. Or, at least that’s the way Kathryn perceived it.

She swallowed, scooting back further on her bed in an attempt to put another comforting inch of distance between her and the siren tormenting her. “A little,” she ground out, the scant affirmation all she was willing to give.

Annette smiled anyway, a bright and feral smile, and Kathryn suddenly felt as if she had given away the world. “That’s a good girl,” she purred, and Kathryn blushed. She hated the patronizing and the sanctimonious bullshit, but part of her craved the interaction so much that she was willing to overlook it.

“Well,” Kathryn growled, the derision in her tone directed at both Annette and herself, “I’ve got to earn my treats, don’t I?”

Annette’s nostrils flared, eyes narrowing with anger. “What makes you think I brought any?”

Kathryn took a moment to calm the racing of her heart. She wasn’t sure what it was… excitement, anticipation, fear. Something had her in its thrall. “Why come otherwise?” she asked, voice slightly hoarse. She loathed what she had become, reduced to playing these games, participating in illusionary struggles for power. Not that she could change things. She was too far gone, and some part of her even thought that maybe, just maybe, this could be her penance.

“Maybe I just wanted to see you,” Annette pouted, moued mouth a delicious tease.

Eyelids drooping heavily, tension curling in the pit of her belly as she waited for the play to begin in earnest, Kathryn drawled, “I’m sure that’s it.”

“You’re awfully cocky for a bitch with a lot to lose,” Annette snapped, eyes sparking with anger.

Arms spread wide in an expansive gesture of defiant hopelessness, Kathryn growled, “What do I have to lose, Annette? My friends? My family? My social status? My money? My future? Find something else to take from me. Please. I’m not in treatment. I’m in jail. I have nothing here, and when I finally get out, tell me where I’m going to go? Everyone considers me a disgrace.”

“What about pride?” Annette asked, this time her voice betraying her curiosity.

“What? Lose my pride?” Kathryn looked down, her drab hospital issued garb seeming to mock her. “What pride do I have left to lose? Just last week I got you off for a line of coke. How much lower do you think I could sink?”

Choosing to ignore what didn’t fit into her plan, Annette went on the defensive, “Did you think about it?”

“Think about you?” Kathryn asked, smirking. “Yeah, I thought about you.”

Annette struggled not to blush, though she wasn’t sure why, exactly, she would. “Did you think about what you did to me? Did you think about yourself down on your knees in front of me?”

For some reason, Kathryn’s smirk only deepened, her smudged eyes flashing with amusement. “I thought about it.”

Struggling to regain her composure, to recapture her place at the top, Annette said, voice tight, “Did you get yourself off thinking about it?”

The words sounded out of place spilling past her lips. She didn’t have the hardness to pull them off. She hated the way she sounded, like a little girl trying to be bigger than she was, and hated the way she could see that Kathryn knew it.

Head cocked to the side, Kathryn said slowly, “Oh, yes. I did.”

Forcing the words out, determined to see her plan through to the end, Annette said sharply, “Show me how.”

For a moment, Kathryn thought about saying no. Thought about screaming it, thought about pushing Annette out of the room, the time in restraints she’d be destined to earn be damned. But she didn’t. She felt alive, more so than she had in longer than she could remember. And so with a devilish smile, she drew her knees up, legs parted wide as one slim hand slid under the waistband of her hospital issued scrub pants. She watched Annette watch her, the rotating, writhing outline of her hand leaving her transfixed.

“Take them off,” Annette said hoarsely, licking suddenly dry lips. She felt out of control, as if things had spiraled away from her. Some part of her urged her to run, to get the hell out of there and never look back. But she couldn’t do that, couldn’t leave with the game half played. Only now, she wasn’t as sure of the outcome as she had been before.

Kathryn slowly untied the drawstring at her waist, thumbs hooking under the thin fabric as she lifted her hips up off the bed. She was wearing nothing underneath, preferring to go without than to wear the standard white cotton underwear she’d been issued. The light blue fabric tangled at her ankles for a moment as she worked to kick it off and then it was gone, leaving her bare from the waist down.

The florescent lights seemed obscenely bright as she grabbed the hem of her scrub top, easily flinging it off. She felt vulnerable, naked and exposed as she was, but resolutely shook the thought out of her mind.

“Do you like to watch me?” she asked, the words seeming to creak out of a suddenly dry throat.

Annette’s eyes hardened, brows lowering. “I ask the questions."

“I think you do,” Kathryn continued, fingers once again sliding between her legs. She made sure to arch her back, to hiss through her teeth, and was gratified by the way the angelic Annette squirmed in her chair. She spoke again, words a harsh near whisper. “You’ve never watched a girl before. You’ve never touched a girl. You’ve never had a girl touch you. Except me, right? And you liked it, didn’t you. You liked the way my tongue felt. You liked the way I looked between your legs.”

“No,” Annette protested, voice a choked cry.

“What’s the matter, good girl?” Kathryn taunted, hips undulating slightly. “Afraid it’ll be true if you admit it?”

Annette tried to tear her eyes away from the sight in front of her. She couldn’t, though, not in the face of the lean ripple of stomach muscles pulled tight in arousal, the red flush of hypersensitive skin.

“It’s not true,” she whispered starkly.

Kathryn laughed, then drew her hand from between her legs. Slinking off the bed, confidence back in full force as she once again slid into a role in which she knew she excelled, she closed the distance between them in disturbingly sensual, fluid movements. She straddled Annette’s thighs, slim arms winding easily around the other girl’s neck. Fingers sifted through impossibly soft blonde hair, and she brought her head down to capture the Annette's lips with ease.

There was a soft sigh, a barely there exclamation of breath, and then a choked half-cry as Annette pushed weakly against her shoulders. She won the fight before it even really started, her tongue slashing boldly across the Annette's lips, her hips rocking into Annette’s in a maddening rhythm. Soft fingers skimmed across her back in a feather light touch, almost too soft to be felt, and Kathryn nearly growled out her victory.

Soon, her fingers were beneath starched white cotton and on hot silky skin. Annette was soft, with a girlish layer of baby fat covering her muscles. She had full breasts, and they were hot and heavy in Kathryn’s hands as she pushed the lacy wisp of her bra upward, freeing them. Annette squeaked into her mouth as Kathryn’s thumb drew light circles around her nipples, her back going stiff with surprise.

Kathryn wanted Annette on her bed, spread out and vulnerable before her, but she knew that wouldn’t happen if she gave Annette time to think about what was happening. As it was, there was still a stiff remnant of resistance tightening her shoulders, keeping her from fully relaxing into what was happening, and Kathryn knew she had to keep things moving inevitably closer to the conclusion she had in mind or it would all come to a screeching halt. So she stood, wrapping Annette’s tie around her fist until Annette had no choice but to come with her. She didn’t relinquish Annette's lips, her kiss growing hotter as she slowly spun Annette around and backed her into the bed, forcing her to collapse onto the thin mattress. There she straddled her waist again, nimble fingers pulling the tie free and unfastening the row of buttons holding the soft cotton shirt together.

When she felt cool air on her breasts, her bra having been expertly removed, Annette’s brain jumpstarted itself into activity once more. She pushed firmly against Kathryn’s shoulders, jerking her head to the side and tearing their lips apart.

Panting deeply, chest heaving with exertion, she said weakly, “I don’t want this, Kathryn. Let me up.”

Kathryn merely grinned, one hand moving quickly up Annette’s thigh to push aside the thin barrier of her panties. A slim finger traced through her wetness, and Kathryn brought the coated digit up between them. It glistened in the harsh light and Annette turned her head away, refusing to look.

“You want this,” Kathryn said roughly. She grasped Annette’s chin in her hand, pulling the other giherrl around to face her again. “Stop playing your silly little games. I’m going to fuck you and you’re going to like it.”

“No,” Annette whimpered as Kathryn’s hand disappeared between her legs once again. She shook her head even as her hips bucked up against the firm presence, as she whimpered low in her throat. A hard push to her shoulder and she slammed back into the mattress, Kathryn straddling her triumphantly. Her free hand pulled the little pleated skirt upward as the other slid under the waistband of the Annette's panties and back into her wetness, drawing a startled gasp.

“Don’t worry,” Kathryn said with a wicked grin, lowering herself so that her lips were inches away from Annette’s, “you’re going to like this.”

She watched clear blue eyes cloud over for a second as Annette struggled to find something to say. She was clearly on the losing side of an internal battle, and Kathryn silently celebrated her victory as she closed the few remaining inches between them, her lips meeting Annette's in a searing kiss.

Her movements were expert, deft, the well-polished accomplishments of long practice. Soon she had Annette panting, sweat trickling down her face as her head thrashed about on the thin hospital pillow, blonde hair tangling against the rough cotton fabric. She knew how to bring Annette to the brink of climax only to refuse to take her over the edge, and soon the Annette's nails were clawing at her shoulders as her body tensed repeatedly, searching in vain for a release that Kathryn wasn’t yet ready to give. She took her time, fingers a feather brush against the Annette's clit until finally she slid inside Annette, fingers curling up as she began to thrust in and out with surprising strength and speed, her hand almost a blur between the Annette's legs.

Annette’s mouth opened on a silent ‘O’, her eyes unblinking and unseeing. Her heart rate accelerated without warning, the rapid beat almost scary in its strength and intensity. She could feel the hot hum of blood rushing past her ears, each pump vibrating through her on a wave of heat. Her stomach muscles clenched involuntarily, a dull ache spreading through her abdomen as she forgot to breathe. Everything narrowed down to a thin line of feeling for long seconds before exploding, drawing a choked cry from her lips.

Kathryn kept her there, suspended in a void between pleasure and pain for long moments, her fingers slipping out of Annette's body to torment her in other ways. Annette couldn’t stop her body from jumping, jerking about as if she were a puppet on the end of a marionette’s string, and she gasped as each wave coursed through her until it was all too much for her to take and she clamped her hand around the Kathryn's wrist, nails digging painfully into her flesh.

“Stop,” she panted, ears still ringing.

Finger still circling, Kathryn grinned ferally. “Say the magic word.”

Body jerking painfully, Annette ground out, “Please.”

Stilling her movements, Kathryn looked at Annette from under hooded lashes. “There now. Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Fuck you,” Annette spat weakly, bitterly, ashamed by her body’s betrayal.

Tilting her head to the side, a speculative gleam in her eyes, Kathryn murmured, “Please do. You owe me one, after all.”

“I’m not touching you,” Annette shot back, disgust evident in her tone.

“You think that if you don’t, you can pretend like this never happened? You think you can pretend like you didn’t want it? You think you can pretend like you didn’t like it?” Kathryn laughed harshly. “Let me know if that works for you.”

“I didn’t want this,” Annette said, voice trembling. She could feel tears gathering in the corners of her eyes and blinked desperately to keep them from falling.

Snorting, Kathryn shot her an almost disgusted look. Voice hard, she said, “One of the many things I’ve learned during all the time for introspection I’ve been so kindly provided is that your mind always knows the truth. You may want to hide things from yourself, may want to pretend like they didn’t happen or change the facts in your head so that it’s the way it should have been and not the way it really was, but it doesn’t work. You can’t fool yourself, and you can’t change what happened. You can’t change what you did, or what you let someone do to you. And the truth is that you let me fuck you because you wanted it. Now you’re telling yourself that you don’t want to give as good as you got because you’re scared of what that might mean. Maybe it would mean that, deep down, you’re just like me.”

Annette shivered, turning her head to the side, and stared sightlessly at the blinding white of the wall.

“You want to be just like me, don’t you,” Kathryn whispered seductively, easing over so that she was covering Annette’s body with her own. “That’s why you came here in the first place. You like the way it feels to be me. I’ll bet you thought you could be better at being me than I was.”

Annette’s head snapped back up, and she glared at Kathryn, the expression that of a disgruntled kitty. “Why would I ever want to be like you?” she said on a harsh rasp, lips curling up in a sneer.

“Because it’s fun,” Kathryn replied simply. “And I applaud your effort… last week you had me on my knees begging. You should have quit while you were ahead. But you didn’t, and look where you are now.”

Annette began to struggle at the words, her body bucking beneath Kathryn’s as she tried to throw Kathryn off of her. Kathryn moved quickly, pinning Annette’s hands above her head, body subduing her struggles with a wiry strength Annette hadn’t anticipated.

“No,” Kathryn said chidingly, as if speaking to a child. “Not until you finish what you started.”

Jaw clenched, Annette looked up defiantly. “No."

Growling in frustration, Kathryn let go of Annette's pinned wrists, nails scraping roughly against Annette’s scalp as she grabbed a handful of hair in each fist. Holding her still, brown eyes boring into blue, Kathryn slowly lowered herself until their lips were almost touching, her breath scorchingly hot Annette’s bruised lips.

“Fuck your supposed morals and your pathetic little rebellion. You’re halfway there… why quit now? If you want to be like me, you’ve got to learn how to go all the way. See things through to their end,” she said roughly, pupils dark black voids. “No half measures. No fear.”

“You think I’m saying no because I’m afraid?” Annette asked viperously, eyes flashing.

Hips grinding into Annette's abdomen slowly, fingers tightening in her hair, Kathryn rasped, “Yes, I do.”

Annette smirked, the expression far more arrogant than her current position allowed for. Kathryn didn’t care. She closed the distance between them, grinding her lips against Annette’s roughly, finesse not the objective of this kiss. She was pleasantly surprised when she felt Annette begin to kiss her back, the gesture soon turning into a war for dominance.

Flipped onto her back by a suddenly determined Annette, Kathryn soon found herself gasping with pleasure. Annette's fingers were surprisingly agile and adept, circling her clit tightly, pressing with more pressure than was completely comfortable. It wasn’t long before Kathryn heard herself cry out hoarsely, felt her body give way as shudders ran up and down her spine, racking her body with pleasure.

Breathing hard, she bucked her hips. Turning them again, bracing on her elbows above Annette, Kathryn felt a feral grin curl her lips seconds before she bent down to kiss her, body in hyperdrive.

Nearly an hour later, Kathryn rolled out of the bed, calmly drawing her scrub pants up her legs and pulling the top over her head.

“Get up… you’re taking me out of this place,” she said roughly, eyes hooded as she looked over at Annette’s limp form.

Raising her head weakly, Annette said, confused, “You can’t leave.”

At that, Kathryn laughed. “I can leave. I just haven’t done it yet. I wasn’t sentenced to come here. My family put me here to get me out of the way, hoping people would forget about what I’d done. It certainly wasn't so that I’d actually get some kind of treatment. And I let them, because some part of me thought I deserved it. But, I’m finished with that. It’s time to move on.”

Mouth gaping widely, Annette could only stare as Kathryn looked at her contemptuously. “I don’t understand,” she said finally, pushing up weakly on her elbows. “Why stay here? Why do any of this?”

“I don’t know. Because I forgot who I was. I forgot what it was to be me. I forgot how fucking good it felt. And now you’ve reminded me, and I’m finished feeling guilty and I’m finished feeling ashamed.”

She left with one last glance at the bare interior of room 419. Part of her felt like laughing as she took in the dingy tile, the thin mattress and the air of her desperation still hanging about the place. The desire for penance, it seemed, had passed.

Later, as they drove back into the city, Kathryn threw her head back and laughed, the sound caught by the wind and spirited away. Her hair whipped around her, her eyes stung in the piercing sunlight, and she felt some part of her unfurl from its long hibernation. She barely spared a glance for Annette at her left, choosing instead to focus on the heat of the sun burning against her skin, the cut of wind against her cheeks. She shed a ghost with each mile until she was free, mind clearing of everything but her newly remembered place in life.

She was back. With luck, the world wasn’t even close to being ready for her.


End file.
